Hiiii would anyone like to be added onto a taglist for rivalry or just anything I post? I technically haven’t published anything that isn’t rivalry but just in case lmk
“Fans” telling Kate Cassidy to stop talking/posting about Liam is wild considering they’re probably the same people who continue to post sad TikTok edits, and slide shows about his death to get views and comments.
"Hey, you, medicine man, you know what the broken need. Hey, you, I'll give you a dollar to take this pain away from me."
Rory
Seduction. The bar is named Seduction. I don't think this is any regular bar. I grab Giselle's elbow before she could follow the boys into the bar. "Are you sure? I don't like this." I swallowed thickly, nerves spiking. Who names a bar seduction? I feel like this is going to be a bit more than a bar. "Just don't think about it." Giselle suggested, walking through the opened door Louis held for us. I keep quiet, passing through and staring at the floor. I feared if I looked up, we'd be hounded by strippers, or something worse.
Giselle just keeps hold of my hand while I shuffle with the group towards a table. The trio of boys sit on one side, while Giselle and I sit on the other side of a booth. I hold my bag on my lap, folding my arms together on top. I thought if I set it down, even under the table, it'd get stolen. I know you're not supposed to judge a book by it's cover, but Seduction. Really? This is never the kind of place a girl like me is supposed to be. I like books and movies, I like studying a losing sleep. I like schedules and sticking to them. I know being a cheerleader means something I have to do rather raunchy dance moves, but that's just dancing, not me actively trying to attract a male. Plus, it's not like many males are attracted to me anyway. "What do you want to eat?" Louis asks, breaking the silence. "Do you have a menu or something?" Giselle asks but Louis shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, just let me know. I'm friends with the cook, he'll set you up."
Niall just groans and gets up, pulling Harry with him. "We're going to the bar."
"Already?" Louis shouts at them, quieter than I thought he would. Niall nods, but Harry is already walking away. "Okay, just us three then." Louis turns back to us with a tight smile. Giselle nods. "It's alright, I'm sure it'll be better with just us anyway."
"Right. How about I just go tell the cook what to make and surprise you two?" he looks between Giselle and I and we both nod. I could probably eat just about anything right now. Giselle agrees and Louis walks away leaving the both of us alone. I take this time to look around the bar. It's honestly emptier than I thought it would be. But there are a few tables, mostly the main bar, where a few drunken idiots sit. I notice a couple of the older kids from my school here as well. They just sit at tables and read books or stare at computers. I guess they are kinda smart to sit in here. If anyone comes looking for troubles, there's a nicely sized biker gang surrounding the pool game. There's a stage, hopefully for something like karaoke, but the single pole at the front tells me otherwise. Good thing it is empty though. There aren't any workers walking around, just two guys and a girl behind the bar.
From what I can tell, it doesn't look atrocious. It just looks like an average bar. It quenches my fear a bit. "Do you see that?" I asked, nodding my head towards the pool table. Giselle leans around me and quickly scopes the place before nodding. "Looks like a gang to me."
"You think they know anything?" Giselle shrugs. "Honestly if they did, then the police would know by now. I'm sure they're the police's first suspects." Giselle whispers back. "Maybe we could ask?" I suggested but Giselle's eyes widen. "And say what! Hey, we wanna know if you're part of a mysterious, murderous gang. Can you please stop that, thanks!" Giselle whisper shouts. "Okay!" I shouted back. "I panicked I'm sorry!" I apologize, realizing just how dumb I can be. I didn't mean just explicitly ask anyway, I meant, mildly suggest it. But I think if I even told them I thought they could be part of a huge underground murderous gang, they'd kill me on the spot. Kinda proving my point.
Louis comes back and sits down across from us. "I brought water, and for you babe, a Cherry Bomb." Louis sets down a glass of water in front of me, and puts down a smaller glass, with a pinkish red color in it, ice, and two cherries on top. "It's good I promise, I think you'll like it." Louis grinned. "And if you'd rather have a soda, I can get you a soda." Louis nods in my direction and I smile graciously. I've never had a guy pay attention to me like that. He knows I feel uncomfortable about being here, about drinking, that I'm not into that kind of thing. Louis seems so much sweeter than Harry or Niall.
Niall who tried to take advantage of me and bring me upstairs to his bedroom to sleep with me. Harry who hardly ever speaks unless he's going to embarrass me by pointing out that Niall could never want anything from me besides sex.
Meanwhile Louis is bringing Giselle drinks, paying for our dinner, and getting me water. Her favorite fruit is a cherry, I wonder how he found out about that. She drinks cherry everything. Even when she got a mild cold from one of the other cheerleaders, she took cherry flavored medicine. She eats these immaculate tasting chocolate covered cherries. I think if she could, she'd turn herself into a cherry. "Water is fine." I decided with a nod. "So how was cheer?" Louis asks Giselle. "You guys looked exhausted the whole time. Does your coach yell like that all the time?"
"It was pretty exhausting having to do the half time dance like five six times in a row, but I think every time we got better. Coach yells at us all the time, especially now cause she's going's through a divorce." Giselle explained and Louis nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Our coach is excited 'bout that one. Don't think he has a shot."
"Hey, I think the football coach is kinda cute, in that college football coach kind of way." Giselle giggles making Louis chuckle. This isn't supposed to make me feel sick is it? I've never actually had to watch Giselle flirt, it's been just us the past two months I've known her, we've mostly talked about her ex, cheer, her mom, my mom, growing up. Not really much about how we flirt, or really watch each other in action. My idea of flirting is ignoring you until you walk away, and then staring at you when you're not paying attention. I like to think it's pretty good if you can't tell I'm always surrounded by hot babes. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom." I excuse myself, but Louis and Giselle don't even look in my direction.
I guess I'm going to take an extra long bathroom break, and then walk to the bar and get a soda, and then drink it at the bar, and then walk back to the bathroom for a second potty break, and by then I seriously hope Giselle and Louis aren't... In the mood for more. I stand up and walk around the booths, in search of the bathroom. I find the sign and walk down the hallway. There are a couple doors. All of them are closed, and some of them have words on it. Like Lust and Temptation. My skin crawls, wondering what the hell could possibly go on in there. I mean I know, but really? In a bar? Gross. I finally find a normal looking sigh with the picture of a naked mermaid woman. Of course. I push it open, kind of expecting to step into the pit of hell, but it's actually lit up rather nicely. This is totally a place I could hide until Giselle is ready to go.
On one side, there are three vanities lined up along the walls. Ovular mirrors, hair curlers, straighteners, and on the opposite wall is a deep rich purple, velvet couch. Now that I could sleep on. .Surrounding it were a couple of plants, real or fake I couldn't make out without actually touching it. There was a wall with a cut out center keeping the couches and vanities sectioned from the actual bathroom. The stalls weren't gross like I thought, there weren't any graffiti or the scent of sex, or even too strong perfume. This is a nice freaking bathroom. I hadn't really lied about needing to use the restroom, so I did that. There was a huge body length mirror in the bathroom too. I think this might be where the strippers like get ready and stuff. Why else would there be three whole vanities? I've never seen a bathroom like this before. After I was done, I make myself useful on the couch, testing out its durability by reclining on it.
I sit up against the plush back, practically sinking into it. I think we need this in our house. I close my eyes, sighing deeply. I run my fingers along the velvet. This is what Heaven feels like, I'm sure of it. I lie down, my head against the armrest. It's just as comfy this way. It feels like I'm lying on a cloud. I can still hear the bar music, some old rock song. That's probably the only thing that kills the vibe. If there was like some classical music, or maybe a waterfall, I can pretend I'm in Rome, like a queen or something while I'm being fed grapes. And upon further inspection, the plants inside the bathroom are in fact real. They give off a decent smell. I wonder if the boys bathroom is half as nice as this. I doubt it.
After being in the bathroom for like ten minutes, I decide I'm ready to make an acquaintance of the bar soda fountain, so I get up and exit. The door opens on the far end of the hallway, a man came bustling out looking rather busted. I freeze in the doorway as he staggers past, hands shoving me backward. I fall against the door with a huff, smacking my head against it. I wince in pain, bringing my hand up to feel the back of my head to check for bleeding. If I am bleeding, this guy is gonna look even worse when I'm done with him. I cannot miss out on my first Friday Night Lights cause some guy pushed me into a door, where I got a concussion, or began to bleed. But after retracting my hand, I saw I wasn't bleeding. I glared at him walking away. Not sure if I should make a spectacle out of this or not.
But he already looks terrible, and the door he came out of is wide open. I glare at him as he disappears around the corner, heading down the hallway more to the open door. There are a set of wooden stairs. It's louder down there than it is in the bar. This must be where all the people are then. It doesn't sound like music, or some kind of underground club, it sounds like shouting. Why would people be shouting? Maybe he pushed more people down there too. "What the hell are you doing?"
Monotone.
I whip around, heart racing at the act of being caught snooping. Harry. He stands a few feet behind me, I hadn't even heard him move, but then again, the closer I had gotten to the door, the quieter everything behind me seemed. "I-nothing." I stuttered. Harry's hands were clasped behind his back as he leaned down. Why does he do that? He looks like one of those pretentious assholes from Greensboro. "Doesn't seem like nothing princess." my eyes narrow at him. "Who says you can call me princess?" Harry walks towards me and I take a few steps back, not expecting him to get closer. I get in between the doorway, if I take even the smallest step back, I'm going to fall down the stairs.
Harry leans in closer, his hand holding himself up with his hold on the doorway, fingers wrapped around the white painted wood, muscles bulging in his upper arms. His eyes are greener the closer you get. There's a little ring of brown around the iris. It's a pretty cool toned brown and mixes well with the green. They're not quite hazel, the green in the outer rings are too bright, too obvious to be hazel. And then there's a thick black line all around the green. I feel my breath catch in my throat. How can such pretty eyes belong to a guy like this?
I lean as far back away from him as I can without falling, but even with as much space as I can muster, he's still too close. I can feel his breath against my face. I feel a gentle pressure against my back and Harry stands up straight again. I feel it hard behind me. Wood. He closed the door. "C'mon, let me buy you a drink so you stop standing there like an idiot. Nothing to see anyway." he says casually, flipping around and heading back to the bar. I watch him retreat. The thin black shirt stretches across his back muscles. Maybe I can understand football player attraction. I shake the thought from my head, Harry is not the king of guy I'd ever be attracted to though. He's so dull. I like my guys full of life, and super smart. I'm surprised a guy like Harry even comes to school. He looks like he'd be a drop out. Maybe his parents force him to come, or maybe he's just here for football.
After a few beats, I follow Harry to the bar, making myself acquainted with the soda fountain like I said. Harry sits on my right side, blocking the hallway completely. "Can I get a soda?" I asked, but a bartender was already setting down a beer. "Drink it, put some hair on your chest."
"I don't need hair on my chest, I'm a woman." I plant my hands on my lap. "It's a metaphor." Harry states bluntly. "I'm aware it's a metaphor, to make you stronger or more masculine. I don't need to be stronger or more masculine-"
"Do you always over explain everything?"
I run my tongue across my bottom lip. "I don't want beer, I want a soda." I said again, a bit more demanding. Harry looks up at the bartender who just nods, turning and grabbing a cup, holding it against the soda fountain. He slides the beer from in front of me to in front of him, sticking a finger inside and swirling it around on the foamy top. "You're quite boring."
I scoffed. "Says you. Talking like this all the time." I said the second part, mocking his accent. He speaks so slow, like everyone around him is an idiot, or doesn't speak English. And then he just always sounds bored. If you're so bored, just leave already. He just stares at me, eyes shining brighter than they had earlier. Is this what he looks like happy? "You get used to it." the bartender sets my soda down in front of me. They only had Pepsi. I always found it annoying how some places only had Dr. Pepper, or only Coca Cola, or only Pepsi. Maybe I wanted to order all three and now you're losing business cause of a contract deal. I smile at the bartender as he walks away to deal with someone else for once. I hope Harry isn't mean to him.
I take a sip. Mhm, tastes just like Pepsi. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until right now. I take a few more slow sips, staring ahead at all the signs on the wall. "Where's Niall?" I asked curiously. "He's hustling those bikers for money." Harry tilts his head towards the opposite side of the room where I had pointed out the gang to Giselle. "What?" I flipped around, staring at Niall as he used a pool stick, walking around the game like he owned it. He kept holding it up, shoving the stick forward and sending ball after ball into the hole. "Wow, he's really good." I noted. Sensing that those bikers weren't going to be happy afterward.
"You can say that."
I keep my eyes trained on Niall. Every time another ball rolled right into the hole, another biker groaned in complaint. "We're probably gonna have to leave soon." Harry took a big gulp from the beer and set it back down, standing up. "Why?"
"Bikers hate losing, and Niall never backs down from a fight."
"What?"
Do not tell me there's about to be a biker gang brawl, or I'll lose my mind. I cannot be near a fight at all. If the cops are called, Giselle's mom is so coming. She told us to stay away from trouble, and we did kinda, but this one found us instead. Harry sighed and grabbed my arm, dragging me away from my unfinished soda. "Come on princess." I snap my arm away from him. "I don't like when you do that. And why are you calling me princess?" I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. Louis is the only one who's ever called me princess, Harry doesn't get that right. He rolled his eyes. "Louis told us."
"Louis told you what?"
"Louis told us that he thinks you're a princess. You don't smoke or drink, or like having fun. You don't even like it when Giselle has any fun. You made her leave the party, you almost didn't let her come to the bar. You think you're too good for us, like a princess. But look around, you go to the same school as us. You live in the same town."
I thought Louis calling me princess was cute, like the actual princess Aurora. But now it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. "I don't think I'm better than you." I argued but Harry scoffs. "You wouldn't even sit down without Giselle forcing you to."
"Well sorry I don't want to catch Syphilis!" I crossed my arms over my chest.
"That's not how it works!" I've never seen him so emotional before. Angry. He's so mad. His hands are clenched at his side, his chest rising and falling in deep breaths. I don't get why he's so mad, why does he care if I don't want to sit down inside a gross bar? And never once have I ever thought I was too good for these people. He has to be projecting onto me or something. I'm practically fuming in rage, and slight embarrassment. "You're making all these remarks about me, yet you can't seem to stay away from me every time I do something." I give him a pointed look. He sucks in a quick breath, running a hand through his curly brown hair to push it away from his eyes. it only falls right back into place. "Cause you're going to get yourself into trouble, or hurt."
"Why do you care?" I shouted in exasperation. I have no idea what his problem is. Harry's glaring at me one moment, and the next, he's pulling on me again. I stumble forward, and turn around, looking at what happened. Niall, and two of those biker guys are having it out right behind us. "Get out of here." Harry pushes me towards the door. "And what are you gonna do?" I shout back. Giselle comes up to me quickly, wrapping a hand around my wrist, pulling me out the door. I glance behind me as the door swings shut as Harry and Louis get in on the fight.
"The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark, frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark, the middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start."
Rory
Giselle and I have been cooped up in our bedroom all weekend, thinking. Neither one of us has come up with a concrete plan. We cannot scope around or try and infiltrate the same way that Ruby and the other eight people did, or else we'd get killed. We can't call for backup, cause her mother would kill us. We were kinda at a stand still, which is why I liked coming back to classes on Monday. It was unfortunate for Giselle cause she has no classes on Monday's, but she decided she was going to stay in our room and watch true crime documentaries and spy movies until I got home.
Mondays I have my hardest subject, history. It's a two hour class, and the topic we're currently discussing is ancient Rome. It's giving me ideas incase the gang finds out about Giselle and I's plan, then I understand Rome so we can hide out there. At least I'll be able to see Giselle during cheer practice. Out first football game of the season is this Friday. My first ever college Friday Night Lights, it's actually kind of crazy how soon it's come up. It makes me feel sad that I really only have one more year until Giselle graduates, and I'll have to battle my final two years of college alone. Unless I find other friends during my time here. Everyone really keeps to themselves, their own friend groups here. Nobody really wants to chat around in fear they'll run into the wrong crowd, me on the other hand, I'm actively searching for it.
History was the longest two hours of my entire life. I finished my caramel macchiato, opened my snack of cheez-it's (finished them) and maybe set up my computer when everyone was working on our project to hide me napping. It honestly was the first time in two days where I felt safe sleeping and my mind wasn't reeling. After I finished with class, I headed down to the locker room. I took my time getting ready, girls began to trickle in slowly. I stood in the bathroom where we had a shelf, kind of like a vanity, and fixed my hair into a high ponytail. By the time I was done with that, Giselle was already walking in, fully dressed in her cheer uni, and with a small smile on her face. I narrowed my eyes at her. I haven't seen her smile since Friday. "What's up with you?" I asked, nudging her side as we walked to the gym. She shrugged as a couple girls set up our stretching mats. Giselle just shrugged, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Do you remember how I told you about my ex?"
"How could I forget?" I teased. "You wear his sliced up jersey all the time." I chuckled. "Please don't tell me you're getting back with him Giselle." I stated, suddenly turning very serious. Giselle burst into laughter, shaking her head no. We sit down when all the mats were finished being placed, and begin with our stretches. "Well he used to be on the football team right, and when everyone found out what he did, he got beat up and kicked off the team." she grinned down at her white cheer shoes. "Come on Giselle, just spill already!" I shoved her shoulder making her lean in the opposite direction. She laughs and swats my hand away, sitting up again. "Okay, okay. Do you remember Louis, from the party, who gave you the blunt?"
"Yeah... Don't tell me that was him?" she shakes her head no. "It was a different guy, he's gone now by the way. But Louis was one of the guys who beat him up. I just ran into him before practice and he invited me to another party." she chewed on her bottom lip, hiding her smile. "He wants to go to a party with you! That's so cute." I grinned, switching the stretching position to start on my splits. "Yeah. I just, I didn't say yes yet. You and I have some serious thing's to get planned out. And, I'm not sure I'm up for another party after what happened last time?" she's not spoken once about that night, and I have no idea what set her off, or why she didn't ask me if I wanted to leave sooner, but I never once pushed her. When she's ready, she'll tell me. "Honestly, you should go. He'll be by your side all night. He's really nice, I think you'd like him." I nodded encouragingly. "Plus, maybe a party is exactly what you need. You can talk to people in a casual setting, gently bring up the... You know what, and no one would think anything of it cause you're all drunk." I shrugged. Giselle nodded, deep in thought. "Except, I think you should come too." she pleaded and I shook my head. "No way! I've already had enough of Niall Horan to last me a life time. I genuinely would rather die than see him again. He embarrassed me."
"It wasn't that embarrassing Rory, you're a sweet girl and he took advantage of that. But I promise, if it's me and Louis, you won't have to see Niall, we won't let him come near you." Giselle promises earnestly. Coach blows her whistle, signaling for each of the girls to line up on the side of the mats so we could practice our tumbling passes. "Still, what if you leave me alone again?"
"Look, I take full blame for what happened last time, and leaving you unattended during your first party was a total dick move on my part, but I promise, I won't let myself get distracted again." Giselle grabs both my hands and squeezes tightly. "Please say yes, I really like him Rory." Giselle begs, pouting her lips in a way I can't refuse. I scoff lowly. "I don't want to be a third wheel." Giselle squeals and wraps me into a hug, "So that's a yes?" she giggles and I nod. "Yes, I guess we can go to another party." I sighed. I'd do anything for Giselle, I'd give her the cheer bow off my head if she asked. "But, I don't want to be a third wheel, and I wear what I want this time." I pointed out. Giselle nods, she's ahead of me and the girl in front of her already did her roundoffs across the mat. "No third wheeling, and you can pick your outfit." Giselle agreed, before bounding off after her prep.
After we practice our tumbling, we pack up the mats to head to the bleachers for a short break while we wait for the boys to finish practicing. I still think it's insane that football players get more recognition than cheerleaders do, but we've been practicing a lot longer than they have, and we stay out later than they do. Every Friday night, we also have a theme that the college kids can dress up in, just an excuse really, but I think it's fun. The theme this Friday's is a beach theme, considering it's still sweltering out here, even in the middle of September. Giselle and I sit alone, the other girls surrounding us and gossiping about the latest party, or something that happened between them and a football player. Football isn't the only sport, but it is the most popular. We also have baseball, basketball, and soccer. But soccer and baseball don't start until after Christmas break, and basketball runs from homecoming weekend until we leave for Christmas break.
"How has the newspaper been coming along?" I ask Giselle. She twirls a strand of her hair, staring at the field. "It's been going good. I won't be cheering our second football game cause I need to get the pictures done for football season. Coach isn't gonna be thrilled about that." I sucked in a breath and sighed. "No she isn't." We already have about four dances choreographed for the next four games, we don't make up new routines for every game, we just pick whichever one is the best the practice before and roll with that one.
When the guys finish practice, we move down to the field to start, a couple of the boyfriend of the girls on our team, who are football players, stay behind to watch. It makes me a bit nervous when Louis come up to Giselle, Niall Horan and the Harry guy a few feet behind him. "Hey." Louis calls, catching her attention. Giselle looks up from where she'd kneeling, tying her shoes and stands up quickly. "Hi Louis." I stare at her incredulously. She's nervous? When in the three months have we known each other, she's ever been nervous? Louis has had to have cast some sort of spell on her or something. Who are these guys? "Did you think about coming to the after party?"
Giselle nods, her ponytail bouncing. "Yeah, we're both in." Louis smiles and nods. "Good, and I promise I won't fall asleep on you this time princess." Louis nods at me before walking to the bleachers with the Harry guy and Niall. Giselle whips her head around once there out of earshot. "He's calling you princess?" I shrugged, rolling out my shoulders, a little sore already from tumbling sequences. "I bet it's a nickname that's gonna last a week."
"But why princess?" Giselle quirks an eyebrow. "Cause we introduced each other and I told him name is Aurora, and he was like oh, like the princess," I mocked his accent, terribly might I add, but it made Giselle chuckle. "And I was like, yeah exactly like the princess. I'm sure he'll be so focused on you he won't even remember my name." I winked at her. Giselle pushes me and I laugh, but coach interrupts our fun and starts yelling at us to get into our places.
When we finally finished with cheer, most of the girls literally just layed down on the floor to catch our breath. "That was rough." Giselle groans, rolling onto her stomach. I flip over a few seconds after her, breathing in the scent of the grass. I think my lungs might give up from how many deep breaths I'm taking. "I just cannot believe Tracy is getting point for the first half. She's not even that good." Giselle whispers and I chuckle. "She's a senior, and this is her last homecoming, let her have it." she rolls her eyes. "Apparently she's going on to work as a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader, she's already conditioning for tryouts. She does not care about being point for the first half. Plus, coach literally had me choreograph the first part." Giselle grumbles. "Just leave the poor girl alone, next year I bet one of the junior years are gonna complain." she shrugged. "I wouldn't care." her logic sometimes is so frayed, but I love her anyway.
We leave the field finally, heading off to the locker rooms to change back into our regular clothes, but since Giselle came in her practice uni, she doesn't change. "I am going to take the longest, hottest, shower ever." Giselle groans, rolling out her shoulders when we finally left the locker room. She wrapped her arms around me, practically dragging us to the floor as we walked. "Our water bill is gonna go so high, the company is gonna feel bad for us and won't make us pay." I wrap an arm around her waist, helping her stand. I know for a fact we're going to be dead tomorrow morning. As I lead her around the building, a deep voice calls out to us. Mostly Giselle though, but since I'm with her, me too. We both turn our heads, finding Louis with Harry and Niall. Giselle and I split apart and flip around completely, giving him our full attention. "Me and the lads were gonna head out for a beer at the bar, you want to join us?" Louis walks until he stands a few feet away from us, keeping a rather safe distance. "Oh I'd love to, but I need to make sure Rory gets home safe." Giselle lays a hand on my shoulder, getting ready for the both of us to walk away but Louis stops us again. "She can come too."
"I'm not old enough to drink." let alone be in a bar. Neither if Giselle honestly. She turns twenty one in May, maybe he can wait till then. But instead he just waves it off, "You don't have to drink. There's food, water, I'm sure you're both hungry. I can pay." Giselle and I look at each other. "We'll need a moment to discuss this." Louis nods, backing away and Giselle and I flip around so whisper so he can't hear us.
"We cannot go to a bar with these people, we don't know them!" I whisper shouted. "I know Louis, we have two classes together. Plus, he got pay back on my ex. He seems like a good guy to me."
"Something doesn't feel right. Plus, I thought we were gonna make a plan or something to find out about the you-know-what!" I continued rambling but Giselle shrugged. "We have time."
"And when someone else dies?" Giselle doesn't say anything about that, just gives me her best puppy dog eyes and a pout. "It's a free dinner." alright, she's got me hooked on free. "You owe me big time for this." I huffed and Giselle squeals, turning around and nodding. "We can totally come."
If she gets food on her practice uniform, she's so screwed.
"Well, now that you've got your gun, It's much harder now the police have come, and I'll shoot him if it's what you ask, but if you just take off your mask you'd find out everything's gone wrong, now everybody's dead."
Rory
Every bone in my body feels brittle. Being wanted only for sex is a weird feeling. Never before had a guy ever come to me explicitly for sex. It's always been 'did you take the math notes?' and 'what'd you get on number eight, i just guessed'. I had never ever felt like I've been wanted in a sexual manner. I hadn't ever seen myself as a sexual being. Someone who can find joy in the simple pleasures in life. I always just thought that sex was necessary for procreation, but remembering the feeling of Niall's hand in mine. Even though Giselle says he took advantage of my weakened state, cause I was so caught up in the moment, I didn't think of the implications. I was never raised to read between the lines. My mama always wanted me to see the good in people, and wanted me to help them see the good in themselves too.
Don't even get me started on the way Harry was talking about it, like he believed we were committing the worlds biggest sin. I don't understand why me going upstairs was so problematic. I mean, I get Niall's intentions were a little askew, but I wouldn't have let him get far at all. I probably would have freaked before he even got to kiss me, if he kissed me. Giselle says that she hardly ever kisses her one night stands, that it's so much more emotional than sex. I don't get that, but maybe one day I will.
Giselle sleeps peacefully beside me. We talked about what happened to me on the stairs. I talked about Louis, how he basically fell asleep on me, and gave me his weed stick, which I found out is called a blunt! So I look 1% less stupid. She looked a little distraught over me bringing up Louis, but she wouldn't explain why. She also said that she hadn't mentioned them to me before (the boys who aren't American) because she didn't know I was into that kind of thing, and since I so totally am, we imagined booking a trip to Europe. Meeting hot Italian boys, French kissing the french, her drinking in Ireland. Honestly, it was the perfect way to fall asleep if my brain hadn't been running all night long. It's like my brain drank coffee. I was exhausted, and all I wanted was to sleep, but it was escaping me. I guess it's a good thing then, cause I didn't dream of those gorgeous sea green eyes. Why do boys get all the good things? The hair that does what you want it to, why can they just roll out of bed in yesterdays clothing with no makeup? Why don't we bully them for not shaving under their arms? Your armpits don't need to look like jungles boys. Makes me wonder what boys looked like in the cavemen era, women and men were probably covered head to toe in hair, and they didn't complain then? I feel like men have devolved.
I finally fall asleep, and I probably looked like shit so Giselle didn't wake me in the morning. We really didn't speak much on the weekend. I think she kinda felt bad about forcing me to go to the party, and all that happened when I clearly didn't want to go. As upset as I think I am about everything, I couldn't ever be mad at her for making me go. I really could have let her go on her own, but that idea made me feel sick knowing she was having a bad time too in the end.
I say I'm not as upset as I think I am (or probably should be) because I learned something valuable. What sex means to the average man. To me, it's everything, just as kisses are. Both are super personal to me, considering I haven't done either. It would take a lot of trust in me to do that with someone else. But to guys like Niall, a proclaimed 'ladies man', sex means nothing. I need to protect myself a little better around these kinds of people. These guys aren't high schoolers, they are full grown adults who still have the mental capacity of a 12 year old boy, meaning they are way worse. I just hope Niall isn't going to talk about me, call me a prude or something nasty. Technically, I wasn't the one who ruined it, it was Harry. Thank God for Harry. God and Harry being in the same sentence sounds just as strange as the devil and God being in the same sentence. Like I feel like Harry isn't menacing, but he kinda intimidates me a lot. More than I think I'd ever admit out loud to myself, or to anyone for that matter.
Everything about him feels like his was created to be just that, magnetic, devilish. He's like the first ever sin created, fresh, new, and pure in a way that's totally warped and evil. It makes me sick to my stomach. His voice too, killer. It's deep and monotone. I wonder if he's ever been happy before. Probably not. It was deep and God forgive, but attractive like all British voices are. But I've heard British voices, and there's nothing so liquid gold like his. Music to my ears. He's barely spoken ten words to me and I already find him interesting. I just wish Niall hadn't been... Well, so boyish. I think I could have genuinely liked Niall. He's not too much like Harry, not sure how true that statement is or not, but their vibes are a little different. Niall is more like a camouflage snake I suppose. You don't realize it's true intentions until it's venom is coursing through you while it drags you back to it's place for a midnight snack.
But they were just too cute to forget about. Maybe that's their motive. Look like cute little bunny rabbits (minus Harry, he's more like a scary bat, no vampire pun intended), and lead girls into your bedrooms.
The ceiling looks rather interesting this time of day. The popcorn ceiling is painted a fun white color, cause how fun can white paint actually be. I run my finger against the plump part of my lower lip. To kiss someone. To have sex with someone. I wish I hadn't been so afraid, I would have slept with Niall, I'm sure of it, if I hadn't been so afraid of it. Even with all that being said, Harry stopped us from doing anything, not even me. It's like he knew it was going to happen, and he was waiting there to save me. Harry, saving someone. Funny, vampires don't save people, they kill them. Unless I'm like some sort of prey.
You know, in the way that predators play with their food for a while until they devour it. I suck in a quick breath. Can that even be possible? They're both toying with me on purpose, making me think one thing so I ignore the other red flags. I should really as Giselle's mother for a lesson on reading people, it would help me so much in cases like this. I feel like a fly stuck in a spider web. They have me right where they want me, but they're not going to pounce yet, they want to watch me squirm. And boy, do I squirm.
The door pushes open and I lurch upward to sit making Giselle shriek. "You scared me!" we both shouted at the same time. She groaned and shut the door behind her, sitting down on her bed. "You okay, you don't look okay?" I asked, taking in her appearance. Her lips were downturned in a frown. Giselle never frowns. "My mom called."
Dread. All I feel is the cold washing of dread. "What about it?"
"They found another body in the park last night, around 8 this morning." I let out a deep breath. "Who is it this time?" she looks to the side, eyebrows deep in worry. "Do you remember Eleanor from the bakery? Her daughter came to visit this week, she's been away at college..." Giselle trails off and I sigh. Wow. I went to school with Eleanor's daughter, Ruby. Ruby was two years older than me, so we never spoke, but she always brought treats from the bakery her mom worked in and gave them to the kids who didn't have lunch. Usually just bread, she brought cookies once for the teachers and staff, and she brings cupcakes for kids on their birthdays. "I don't understand what's happening. The people in Georgetown are so sweet." I stand up, running my hands through my messy hair. Giselle nods solemnly. "Yeah, Ruby was a friend of mine actually." I stop pacing and sit down on her bed. "I'm really sorry Giselle." she stutters out a breath, her tears bubbling up in her eyes. "We need to do something about this. I'm putting in an application at the station, and I think you should too. The station needs all the help it can get." Giselle rants. "We need to put a stop to this." my eyes widen and I cup her hands in mine and nod. "Yeah, I can help. I'm not much good when it comes to field work, but I can do something behind the scenes." I nodded, promising away my assistance, and probably every waking minute I have until the case closes. I unclasp a hand from our little bundle on her lap and wipe away at her tears.
"Too many people have died, and I worry every day who's going to be the next one. What if it's my mom, your mom, you!"
"Hey, shh, you said it yourself, the people who were killed were probably affiliated with the gangs. So, we can start with Ruby and her family, see what they know." Giselle's eyes hardens as she shakes her head. "No way would Ruby ever be into something like that, I mean, she gives out cupcakes to people for God's sake, not run ins with drugs and murder!" I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight while she cries. "I know this is a difficult thing to process, but you and I both know, that Ruby getting to go to UCLA is a bit weird, even for this town."
Ruby is one of the first girls since Georgetown Community College, and Greensboro University was crated, to be able to go to a different, more impressive school. Most of the people that lived in Greensboro did that all the time, but then the college was made, and it was slightly more affordable than any other university, so most kids chose to go there instead if they could swing it. My first guess is that Ruby got involved cause she needed the money to go to school, but I'm no investigator, what do I know?
"No! Absolutely not, I am trashing these right now!"
Officer Westbrook, Giselle's mother wasn't all that impressed with our idea, as you could call it. "But mom, please! We have to do something!" Giselle argued, walking around the precinct like she owns the place. "Giselle Tahlia West, I will not! I mean not, have you or your friends apply for jobs here. That is putting a direct target on your backs." Giselle's mother shot back quickly.
The idea of working for the station hadn't been totally uncalled for for me, I wouldn't mind helping save people. But Officer Westbrook thinks that Giselle and I working for the station will cause some discourse. We could lose friends over it. I mean, wouldn't that be a good thing? If people distance themselves for us, there's probably a reason, no? That would be super suspicious to me. But in her world, that puts a direct 'kill me before I catch you' sign on our backs. Of course it made me worry, but at the same time, this was an important job. I can understand why Officer Westbrook wouldn't want her own daughter to work there, but her not wanting me to work there warmed my heart. I felt like a part of the family.
Officer Westbrook tears up our printed resume and job applications, tossing them into a shredder. That's a bit deep. "Giselle, maybe we should go." I suggested, tugging on her flannel jacket sleeve, but she rips her arm away. "No, not until I'm working the case."
Officer Westbrook shuts her eyes, pressing her fingers against her temples. I glance around, a couple people that worked here were staring at us like we're crazy. "In my office, now." Giselle's mom snapped and the both of us walked into the office directly behind the front desk. Giselle's mother, Sharon Westbrook, shuts the door, shutting the blinds as well. This feels just as bad as coach yelling at me. Giselle and I take a seat each opposite the desk. "I'm going to have a nice calm discussion about this with the both of you, and when you leave, you will smile, and forget today ever happened." Sharon sits down on her chair. She folds her hands up, fingertips pressing against each other. She takes a gulp of air. "I haven't been completely honest with you baby." She stares at the empty space in between Giselle and I, like she can't bare to look at either of our faces. "So far, we've accumulated a head count of 250 bodies. Some, more mangled than others, most, without identification." Sharon begins, twisting the silver band on her ring finger in a nervous habit. "Ruby was just... 251. Before she was killed, we hired six men and three women to try and infiltrate their ranks, find out who they are, but nobody budged. Nobody in Greensboro or Georgetown knew anything about gangs, rivalries, most barely even knew anything about the murders." Sharon's tongue darts out to swipe across her bottom lip. "Ruby was one of the women we hired, and she came down this week to look into the case." Giselle slams her hands down on either arm rest, shooting up. "Oh my fucking God mom!" Giselle shouts, turning around and grabbing onto her hair.
"Shh!"
"I'm sorry, what does this mean then?" I asked, leaning forward. Sharon scratches the top of her head. "It means, there are six men missing and two other women who haven't checked in. The gang knows the police are trying to find a way in. Those six men's bodies will be found somewhere, and those two women will be found somewhere else. It's astonishing how well these people work." Sharon's gaze dropped down to the wooden desk. "We sent them in on a suicide mission. All they wanted to do was help!" Sharon chokes, tears pooling in her eyes.
She takes a couple calming breaths and Giselle finally sits back down after pacing. "We want to help too," Giselle pleads. "We need to help, I need to get justice for Ruby, for everyone."
Sharon just shakes her head. "I can't hire either of you for this. The officers in the precinct aren't allowed to hire any family members. And even if I could, I don't want to put either of you in danger." Sharon stands and I know that is the end of this conversation.
Leaving feels like a blur, and Giselle and I don't speak the entire walk home. She seems... Different. I mean, I would be too if my mother hired a friend of mine to infiltrate a gang and ended up being murdered in the process. I guess I was wrong then, about Ruby being involved with the gang. She died doing what she loved, helping people. I haven't seen the body, and even when Giselle begged before we left, the records were all sealed and impossible to break into now, the entire file on the gangs have been encrypted. So, nothing can be edited, or even looked out without the proper information.
Giselle and I walk to the house together. Her mom said something about giving the both of us a car to share so we're not stuck walking around everywhere. It's very sweet of her, but I never learned how to drive and Giselle and I don't have the same class hours every day, so I'd end up having to walk home or to class anyway. "You okay Giselle?" I asked, stopping her on the driveway. She nods, not meeting my gaze. I know she's thinking of something, she doesn't rest until she gets what she wants, but her mother kinda scared me. I want to live my life honestly, I have a lot more thing's I want to do. Like go to Italy with Giselle, and French kiss the French. I rest a hand on her shoulder making her look at me. "Giselle-" I warned but she shook her head. "I know what my mom said, but we need to do something. 250 people have died! Died!" I hush her but she shakes her head. "I could really use your help. There are six guys who's bodies haven't been found yet, and there are two other women who haven't been found yet. I know you swore you'd keep yourself safe while away at college, but Ruby... Ruby would've gotten involved, she would have wanted people to save the others and stop the gang. I need your Aurora."
My heart clenches at her words. I have no other choice I guess. My hands are shaking as I nod. "Okay. What's the plan?"
"Was everything you said just a game? I'll never forget the way I felt that day."
Rory
I swear, nobody in this house is American. Not that it's a bad thing, I just hadn't known we had international students here. Niall's leant over the banister that's meant to keep people from falling off the stairs. his arms are crossed on the white wood, bent down to look at me. I probably also look like an idiot looking up at him like this. I stand up and face him directly. "Hello." he grins teasingly, eyeing the cigarette in my hand. "Whatcha got there?" I glance down at the cigarette, feeling like a kid who's hand was caught in the cookie jar. "Oh this, it's nothing." he just grins and tilts his head downward towards the bottom of the stairs. "Come 'round so I can hear you better." he suggested. I nod and follow through, skirting around random people as I stand at the bottom of the stairs.
He has an accent, now that I'm really listening to him. I can hear it over the music, and it sounds like the sweet, sweet voice of an Irishman. How could there have been two people who go to this school, one apparently being a ladies man, who aren't American and I've never heard of them before? This school feels more twisted that I thought. I have a weakness for a man with an accent. I stop in front of Niall and hold out the cigarette for him to take. "It's not mine." he raises his eyebrows. He takes the cigarette from between my fingers and holds it in his own, just like Louis had, like it belonged there. I don't know why that surprised me. Why would a frat boy not do drugs? Was I expecting him to be some sort of saint, going to church and praying to God? I can't picture him in a church, but at the same time, he doesn't give off sinister vibes. But it's always the innocent who have untamable thoughts. "Then where'd you get it? You know you shouldn't be taking drugs from strangers, love." oh he's a cold blooded killer. What is with the name calling tonight? It makes my stomach feel all fluttery and it's been years since I've felt strange around a boy. I never focused on them in a romantic setting, but this setting is entirely different. I wish I was an actress and when scene's were too tough I could call cut and take a break until I was ready to continue. "I got it from a guy named Louis." I point across the way to the couch, where you could barely see the sleeping figure meshed between bodies. He takes a drag then, nice and slow just like Louis had. My eyes widen at it and I stare at him. He doesn't hold it like Louis did, or let the smoke slide between his lips like satin. He just turns his head and blows it out straight. "Don't like weed much." he flips it around, pushing one end into his palm, and then twisting it around to do the same with the other side. "Woah!" I walk up the only two steps separating us. He just crushed a cigarette on his palm! Isn't that supposed to burn, I mean it's on fire inside. He puts the cigarette behind his ear, brushing some hair to the side. "Don't worry, I'm fine." he flashes his hands at me, reminding me of that scene in Tangled when Eugene was staring at his completely healed hand in shock. His hands were fine, if you could call it that. His knuckles were red. "What happened to your fingers?" I asked worriedly, catching one of his hands for a proper inspection. "You should ice it." I suggested. He just shrugged. I wasn't going to ask what happened, it wasn't any of my business, but I think the redness might darken to bruises soon if he doesn't care for them. "I don't care much. C'mon, why don't we go upstairs so we can hear each other properly." he flips his hand around, palm up.
I glance over to Louis, who I can see a bit easier now, a few feet higher in the air. Giselle wasn't in the crowd either. I mean, what could possible happen if I go upstairs? "Alright." I agreed, taking his hand and letting me guide him upstairs. Niall is dressed in a plain black shirt, and dark denim jeans. His shirt is a bit tight, and you can see the faint outlines of his muscles. The top of the stairs is plunged in darkness. Except for the brunet boy leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, looking unimpressed as always. I can see him clearly. His tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek. Would it kill him to smile? Niall is so care free compared to this guy. He kinda reminds me of Edward Cullen. "Harry." Niall greets the boy. So, his name is Harry. He doesn't say anything, his eyes just flicker between Niall and I like we're two ghosts, not that he'd be afraid of ghosts. He looks like ghosts are scared of him. He just looks a bit appalled, and possibly mad if my knack at reading people is correct. "We were just on our way to talk." Niall points his finger down the hallway. This place gives me the creeps. On either sides of the stairs, I can barely make out white wooden doors, but it seems like there are no lights. I'd hate to wake up in the middle of the night to get water, I just know something would be following me. But with this Harry guy, I think ghosts steer clear of haunting this house.
"You know she can't be up here."
And hammer hits the nail, his voice is just as monotone as he looks. He looks bored, and sad, and mad, all rolled into one but also like he doesn't feel anything at all. Maybe he is a ghost. "Aw c'mon mate-"
"No." Harry interjects, glaring at me. I think this is the first emotion he's ever shown explicitly, that isn't just void. "Downstairs now." Niall scoffs. "She wants to be up here with me, huh?" Niall turns to look at me for the first time during this conversation. "What?" the Harry guy pushes off the wall and leans down to me. "You wanna be here?"
Why is everyone at this party got accents, my insides are crippling under the pressure. Plus, those green eyes stare right into my eyes. I do want to be here. But I'm not sure where here really is, my body feels like it's going through some out-of-this-world event in my brain. I haven't gotten this much attention since the time I was pushed in the kiddie pool in elementary school, twisted my ankle, and couldn't swim. One of the older life guards dove into the pool and pulled me up. Girls and guys alike were flocking us, asking if I was okay, congratulating him on doing his job, saving me. I think he probably got a few girls that day for saving a poor drowning kid. The stories of me being a helpless girl, being saved by the life guard haunted me for a few months until Carol Petrola was the first girl in our third grade class to french kiss a boy. She had boys lining up during recess to kiss her, and the girls were asking her how she did it. And yes, she gave out lessons.
Then of course that football catching thing. "C'mon, I know you speak. You have quite a mouth on you if I remember correctly." Harry raises his eyebrows and then drops them back into their place. "He just brought you up here for one reason, and on reason only darling." Harry continued the torture. Wait what? I looked over at Niall, finally breaking my gaze from those alluring green eyes. Those are eyes I will surely see in my nightmares for weeks to come. "You only brought me up here for one thing?" I asked Niall in confusion. What one thing could he want from me? I don't think playing football in the house is a good idea. Even though there aren't any lights in here, or pictures on the walls, or even really any furniture aside from the two couches in the living room. You shouldn't play with balls in the house. Niall's gaze drops from my face to the floor. Oh. He did only want me here for one thing. Oh. That one thing. Sex. Oh.
I look back at Harry and he raises his eyebrows, like he knows. Cause he does know, he knows better than I do. They are friends, or teammates, or whatever they are. I let out a breath and look back at Niall. My head is swimming from all the looking around. The way Harry is practically starring into my soul like he's gonna eat it. He's taunting me, throwing it in my face that Niall doesn't actually like me, don't know how I didn't know, I haven't even told him my name. I don't know anything about this guy and here I am, about to head up to his room without even questioning it. This is exactly why I don't go to parties. I'm too stupid to see the truth. "I'm gonna go look for my friend." I nodded, backing away and turning on my heel. I fly down the stairs and pass Louis on the couch, still sleeping. My heart is beating too fast.
What would Giselle have done in that moment? Would she have cared that Niall hadn't even asked her for her name? Would she have talked back to Harry? She has quite an attitude on her too, and she's stubborn. She can sweet talk anyone into getting the truth out. She learned it from her mother. Sometimes I wish my mom was a cop, or something a bit more cool than a seamstress. But don't worry, if you rip a hole in your shirt I know how to fix it! So lame I swear. I love my mother though. I wonder what she would think about me being in a place like this too. She's always made me promise to keep myself safe, and trust my judgement. I think it's clouded with all the party haziness. I need to go home, that's what I need. I maneuver through people to the kitchen somehow, and spot Giselle playing beer pong at a circle table. I beeline for her, and grasp her hand tightly. She gasps and looks at me. "Shit you scared me Rory." she clutches a tiny white ball in her hand, to her chest. "You said you were getting us drinks. You skipped out on me." I furrowed my eyebrows, suddenly feeling over come with far too many emotions. Giselle cringed, biting down on her bottom lip. "Shit, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" I nod, but that doesn't feel right so I just shrug, but that feels like not an good enough answer so I shake my head no. "I just wanna go home." I sniffed. The scent of alcohol is over whelming me. She drops the ball on the table and it clatters to the ground. She rests her hands on my shoulders, pulling me close to her. "Did someone hurt you? I can shut this party down right now, they won't even know what him them."
I shake my head no again. "I just really wanna leave. I don't like it here." Giselle nodded, not even looking back at her pong partners. She wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me back toward the door, protectively. When we get back to the living room, I glance back at the stairs, and Niall and Harry lean against the railing, staring at Giselle and I. They look like serial killers when they do that. Do they know that? Do they do it on purpose, cause I swear if they kill me. I whip my head around and Giselle looks at me while we turn down the hallway. "You okay?" she pauses for a second. "Why do you smell like weed?" she scoffs and blinks, wrapping her manicured hand around the doorknob. "You know what never mind, let's just forget all about tonight." she smiles sadly and I nodded. "Are you okay?" I asked in turn as we stepped through the doorway. She sighed and shut the door behind her. "Honestly, I don't know either."
"Oh, she says I'm out of her league, I don't think so, I'm not ready to leave, But I should go"
Rory
"No way am I leaving the house like this!" I shouted, staring at my reflection in the mirror. There's something so off about the way I look, and I can't put my finger on it. I don't look like me. I look like I'm trying too hard. I look like I'm trying to be a sexual creature, but I'm not a lioness, I'm a freaking kitten. "What's wrong with it? You look hot."
Giselle lies down on my bed, while I stare at my reflection in the mirror hung up on the back of our door. "That's exactly why! I look like I should be on the cover of Playboy!" I scoffed, pulling at the tight material on my arms. It was a red lace top, completely see through except for the bandeau bra covering my boobs. I wear jeans too with my regular converse. But it's the top that's throwing me off so much. I always steer clear of colors so dark like red and purple and black, I feel like I look scary. Or more like I'm trying to come off as scary but I failed miserably. I like warmer colors, like brown, white, yellow, pink, light green. They're soft and comforting, and I feel like a flower. "And that's not a good thing!" I twist around to glare at Giselle. She just blows a bubble with her pink bubblegum she chews all too often. She rolls over from her back, where her head had been resting over the edge, to her stomach, popping her upper half up with her arms. "I collect Playboy Bunny catalogues, and I would pay millions to see you on the cover cutie." Giselle flirts and I scoff, flopping onto her bed. "I'm just not cut out for this lifestyle." I gave up. Giselle drops her head, grumbling as she stands up. She holds her hand out for me to take and I do so, and she pulls me up with ease. "You have to try, just for me, please." she pouts. Giselle always gets what she wants. I nodded.
I've tried more than once this week to back out of my agreement, but Giselle would not budge, she thinks she knows better. I'm just worried, too worried. She guides me back to the mirror and circles me like I'm her pray while she fixes the shirt, smoothing out the kinks and wrinkles. It wasn't an ugly shirt, it just felt like I was cosplaying someone else, and that person didn't know who they were either. "Why are you so sense babe?"
"You know how I feel about parties, and I just don't think it'd be a good idea to go to a party after dark." I whispered to last two words a bit quieter, even though we're the only two in here. Giselle nods, tugging on the sleeve of the top to pull it down a bit more. "I get that, but my mom knows about this party, so if thing's get a little too out of hand, I can shut that shit down before they even realize the parties over." she snickers and I let out a soft chuckle. Believe it or not, that did make me feel better.
Giselle's mother being a cop has made my life a hell of a lot easier. I know that if I were to get murdered like everyone else, at least the people working my case care about finding the culprit a bit more. So far, that hasn't been something necessary to think about, but with the party looming in my near future, it's all I can think about. "Can you talk about the stuff your mom figured out again, I need to keep my facts straight." Giselle pauses. "Considering your state of mind, I don't think discussing my mom’s open investigation is going to make you feel better." I shake my head, I need to hear it. It's better to stay vigilant then die and regret not caring about protecting your life some more.
"Well fine then. Uhm, my mom says that she hasn't been able to trace any case patterns in any other towns, meaning whatever happens here, only happens here. She thinks it's a gang war, considering that the first attacks took place here in Georgetown, and that the attacks were probably personal. She thinks that the woman that was murdered, is connected to the people who are in the gang." Giselle explains quickly, stepping back to look at her work. "I think this is perfect." she rests one hand on either of my shoulders, standing behind me. "You don't think it's too much?" I pick at the lace covering my wrist but Giselle shrugs. "I personally don't think it's enough, but I know you'd never let me get that skirt on you." my eyes widen at the reminder. She has a cute mini dark blue jean skirt, it matches the top cause the pockets on the butt are red lace. I haven't ever worn a mini skirt. I also have never kissed anyone or had sex. There hasn't been a lot of time for extracurricular activities with this whole gang commotion going on.
Everything Giselle said was true, but she did forget to mention the fact that there are zero leads on either side of the towns gangs, or even really proof that there are gangs. So far, the people they've brought in, either have zero connection, or haven't said anything incriminating against them that points in the direction of a gang. They also don't know the cause of the war between gangs, except for the first absolutely brutal murder. It sends a chill down my spine. "Maybe I should bring a jacket?" I suggested, but Giselle's hands had already left my shoulder and shoved my phone in my hand. "We're leaving now."
"Already! And you're wearing that?" I asked, looking down at her outfit. It wasn't bad, it made her look really good. Super short jean shorts, low rise too, letting her belly piercing dangle cutely. And she wore a cropped version of the school's jersey. Her ex boyfriend has been on the team a year before, and he let her wear the away game jersey to one of the football games. Only to get there and realize that he had a girlfriend from that school too. So she cut up his jersey, which gets you fined by the school two hundred and forty dollars if any harm comes to the jersey when it's not in a game. She refused to pay him for it, and he ended up having to pay the school the money, or get kicked out. I wish I could have been there for that. She looked good though, really good, and I was a bit worried she'd end up bringing someone home and I'd have to sleep on the couch in the living room. She wouldn't make me do that right?
The walk to the frat party wasn't long enough, so I kept bending over to tie me shoes as we got to their street. But Giselle just grabbed my arm and yanked me up the driveway to the front door. "You can tie your shoes when we get inside." she promised, stopping in front of the door. I can feel the ground shake as the music booms from inside the house. There weren't any people outside, and all the windows were shut. This doesn't really feel inviting. Giselle gives me a pointed look and I huff, gently knocking on the door. I cross my arms over my chest. "Well, looks like no ones home, guess we gotta go." I turn on my heel and take a few steps but Giselle grabs my bicep and tugs me back. The door opens a few seconds later. A blond guy, short hair, blue eyes. Looks almost exactly like the football Niall. But unlike Niall, he wasn't magnetic. It almost felt like a crime had been committed when I looked away from Niall. Same thing with that mysterious brunet boy who hadn't spoken at all. "Niall invited us." Giselle speaks up warmly and the dude nods, stepping aside to let us in. "Welcome ladies, you're not the first ones Niall's invited tonight." he grinned at me and Giselle, but she ignored him. "He what?" I asked as Giselle pulled me through the house.
The hallway was rather long, a couple doors were open, showing more people inside bedrooms, just chatting with one another. I thought the bedrooms is where they had sex? Maybe there won't be any of the sex here if all the bedrooms are just piled with people. Unless they're all having sex together. That would be funny wouldn't it?
Giselle's hand had been wrapped up in mine until we got to the living room where she pushed me down onto a couch. There were two couches in the living room, both a brown tan color. One was against the wall where some stairs were, and the other wasn't up against anything, just there in the middle of the room. It was this one she sat me down on. Based on the way she walked expertly in the house and around the room, it's like she already has a basic understanding of the layout. I can assume she's been here before. There are only three real frat houses that are considered amongst the school. We only have one sorority house, Giselle and I are not in it but I was thinking for her senior year, and my sophomore year we could join together, it would be fun. "You do not move a muscle, I'm going to the kitchen to grab us both drinks." she pats my thigh before skirting around the brown leather couch and disappearing into the crowd. I purse my lips, biting the inside of my cheek nervously. Why in the world would she leave me alone as soon as we arrive?
The people around me are dressed so immodestly a stripper wouldn't want to wear it. All i see are skin tight dresses, bejeweled of course, tiny tops, mini skirts, short shorts. I wish I was the confident kind of girl to wear that sort of thing. My mom made all my clothes, and even though she's huge on body positivity and comfortability, I just never saw the reason why I should dress myself that way. The idea of wearing an outfit to purposefully get a guys attention always seemed to absurd to me. I can understand that sometimes, you just want to wear a sexy outfit, but dressing in a 1800s nightgown can be sexy too, without making your boobs pop out, and butt exposed to the world. It's all about the brain to me.
I feel the weight shift in the spot next to me, and without looking, I know that my lonesomeness has made me seem vulnerable to guys. Screw you Giselle, half of me thinks you did this on purpose so I'd get wrapped up in a conversation and not want to leave. Screw you. I will sleep on the couch tonight I think, and it's my noble decision.
I slowly turn to glance at the figure beside me. He looks older, mature. He's nursing a cigarette between his finger tips like it belongs there. Like dolls that come with personalized accessories. "Smoking gives you cancer." I pointed out. I have no idea what possessed me to start a conversation with this guy. God only know that maybe he just wanted a fucking smoke break. I'm gonna strangle myself. His tattooed hand brings the lit cigarette between his plump lips as he inhales. I swear, every guy I've met this week has been so attractive, who are these guys? He pulls his head back, letting out a large plum of smoke to pass between his lips. "S' not a cigarette." he has a really thick accent, one I can't really recall every hearing before. I know it's British, but he doesn't sound very posh. It's kinda grungy and deep. I guess he's not American then. "What is it then?" if it looks like a cigarette, it's probably a cigarette. I may be stupid, but I'm not dumb. "It's weed love. Don't cause cancer." oh god I look so dumb. "I knew that." I blushed, staring ahead at the stairs instead. "Wanna try?" he waves the weed stick, genuinely what are they called? Weed cigarette? "No thanks." I push his wrist away and he shrugs, bringing it to his lips again. "Good cause I wasn't looking to share."
Even though it really wasn't funny, I smile anyway. He's not pressuring me into doing something I don't want to do, which is a nice change. This isn't anything like movies and shows say parties are like. "What's your name anyway?" I chew on the inside of my cheek. I do not know this man, am I supposed to lie about a thing like this? But how awkward would it be if he finds out my real name after lying to him, we go to the same school after all. Unless he doesn't go here and he's one of those people still living out their college days at random parties. He doesn't seem like that kind of person. "I'm Aurora." I answered, full name, not my nickname. It's weird when people I don't really know use my nickname. His head lolls back, and for a second I think he's died. I sit up a bit, facing him more. A slow, white plume of smoke drifts from his mouth slowly and slides down his body like a snowy avalanche.
I hate to say it, but that was very attractive. I kinda wanna hang myself from a tree for thinking that. Smoking is never attractive. It's certainly not when the day arrives where his voice is gone and his lungs are running on oxygen. Today it can be attractive I suppose, just this once. I watch the cloud dissipate into thin air. He clears his throat and sits up again. "Like the princess?" he carries on the conversation like what he did hasn't completed scrambled my brain up. "Uh yeah, actually, like the princess. How'd you know?" it was true, my mother had named me after the princess. She loved that movie, she knew it takes a village to raise a baby, and loved seeing the three fairies work together to raise Aurora. She liked it was a quiet, simple movie. Plus those scenes where the fairies granted Aurora gifts, such a beautiful and underrated Disney sequence. It feels like watching a dream. Pure magic. "I got a few sisters." he mumbles, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. I don't know what to say after that. Do I ask him for his name? Do I talk more about Aurora? Does the conversation die here?
"I'm Louis by the way." I mouthed an 'oh' and nodded. Thank God he's not expecting me to lead this conversation cause I'd probably end up talking about how there are different flavors of water, and how nothing compared to fresh water, and that bottled water is actually the devil in liquid form. "You're not American." I blurted out and he grins slyly. "How'd you know?" he asked cheekily, nudging my shoulder with his wrist. All his movements are so slow and sluggish. It's so vastly different compared to everyone else in here, they're all moving so fast. It feels like a scene from a music video, where the guys singing at a party and the girls all over him, but they're living in their own bubble. Was that too specific? I'm not all over him right? "Your accent is so strange, it's like British, but I've never heard it before."
He nods, head falling back again. "Yeah, listen princess, love to carry on this conversation, but I'm a wee bit too high, hold this for me?" he holds out the weed cigarette sticky thing. "Uh." I panic, looking between the stick and him. His wrist starts to relax, and I worry if he drops it, it'll start a fire. I gingerly grasp the thing between my two fingers, plucking it from his hand. His hand drops down onto my thigh and I freeze. His eyes are shut, and his head is thrown back against the couch cushion. Okay, now I think he's dead.
I huff out a few quick breaths and lean down to press my ear against his chest. I listen for any sounds of a heartbeat, but the bass is drowning it out. I pull back, moving up more to feel if he's breathing out through his mouth or nose. Sure enough, he was. I let out a quiet sigh of relief, sitting back in my spot again. He's not dead, he's just passed out.
I cannot believe he called me princess though. Princess don't come to fraternity parties and talk to guys who are on weed sticks and fainting on couches. Princesses also don't let their friends named Giselle wondering off unattended. I grab the Louis guy's hand and remove it from my lap and set it in his. I can't honestly understand how he's fallen asleep during a time like this. I also don't get why he chose to sat on my couch, the one against the wall with the stairs behind it seems rather empty, and rather inviting.
I know Giselle told me not to move, but I swear I will lose my mind if Louis moves and lays down on me or something. Or, what if someone else sits beside me and strikes up conversation with me again? I'd really rather not have this happen for the second time tonight. I hold the cigarette, I'm just gonna call it a cigarette, takes less time than saying weed stick, like an absolute loser. I should ask what this is called. I flop down on the couch, staring opposite of me. It's so weird how I was just across the room a second ago. Louis looks like he's completely at peace, sleeping like a little baby. Even when he sleeps he looks like an angel. What the actual hell is up with all these boys being so attractive? Especially that brunet one who looked like I could've been on fire and he wouldn't even blink. He probably thinks chess is fun and collects pennies. I chuckle to myself, waving around the lit cigarette like it's a torch. One side of it is glowing red from the inside. The scent protruding from it gives me a bit of a headache.
"I didn't know you smoke." I look up from the cigarette, no one in front of me, well there's a lot of people in front of me, but no one who seems to take an interest in me. I half expected it to be Giselle, with a special friend or something. "Up here love." wait, I know that voice. I look side to side. I probably look like an absolute dumbass shaking my head like a tweaking addict. The chuckles swarm around me. Have I gotten contact high? That's a real thing that happens right? If you're around someone who's high and smokes or does drugs, that carefree effect will wash over you to match their energy of carelessness. It's always been my second biggest fear, aside from being unable to control my own body. I feel like it's worse now cause I didn't know contact high gives you schizophrenic hallucinations and delusions. "Look up lover."
I tilt my head up, maybe to find an answer to what's going on with me. I find beautiful blue eyes, and that blond head of hair. I smile innocently. "Hello Niall."
Rivalry is dedicated to Liam Payne. The boy who raised us all. The reminder to not wait too long because you never know when the last time will come.
ri•val•ry: competition for the same objective or for superiority in the same field.
"They say when you graduate high school, all the teenage drama is supposed to be forgotten. Your brain acclimates to a new setting; work, college, living alone. You begin finding out the new realities of what being an adult is supposed to mean, you mature. But apparently, the idea of maturing isn't apparent in the towns of Greensboro and Georgetown. Two neighboring towns, with the biggest college football rivalry. Greensboro, filled with the rich kids with the easy ins and outs, million dollar mansions, and Louis Vuitton purses. While Georgetown, had a little bit less. A community college rather than a University. A run down library, cracked sidewalks, and the people who live there always have to fight to live every day.
Hidden behind the football games, the game winning trophy the teams pass back and forth, and the laughter, hide lies secrets, and a bit of mystery. Neither schools football teams are all what they appear to be."
___________
He hadn't always lived in America.
From the time he was born, till about fifteen years old, he had lived in Redditch, England. His happy place, and although much hadn't ever happened in town, thing's happened in his home. His father tried to be the best father he could be, but working almost every single day for long, excruciating hours, and still not being able to make ends meet made him bitter. When the boys sister turned fourteen, she had gotten her first job at a library. The librarian who owned the place understood how hard it was for the family, and took pity on the girl, but she wouldn't hire the boy who was only eleven. He had to wait a while. It lasted until he was fifteen when places would finally hire him, and he landed his first and only real job in a bakery. He didn't know much about baking, but the owner let him steal bread and cakes that weren't quite right to take home, she understood his families issues too.
When the father decided to skip out on paying the rent that month, he hadn't known that the owner to his house was involved in something more sinister than he had ever thought. A gang. It was ruthless and pure evil.
When the leader of the gang realized that one of his renters hadn't payed their monthly fees, he had a fit. He had people to pay, drugs to buy, he didn't want to worry about some reckless family choosing not to pay, so instead he went to the home and told the father he had two options, give up his children, or he raises the rent fees. Of course he also said if he couldn't pay, and didn't want to give up his children, then he'd kick them all out. Of course the father couldn't do that, he wanted his family the have a house. But he also couldn't afford anymore prices being raised, or they'd end up on the street anyway. So, he did the only thing he could, let the man take his kids so he wouldn't have to continue paying for the house.
Before the boys sixteenth birthday, they had already been picked up and sent off to America where he was trained, and he and his sister attended school, college as well. She went to a rather beautiful and large campus, well known for the rich kids. Even when the boy graduated high school, he attended the gorgeous college.
Thing's were fine for a while, aside from the constant torture, being shipped off to other states and countries without being consulted, training and conditioning, fighting. But aside from that, thing's were fine, until they just weren't.
Now she on the other hand, had always lived in America. It had been her home for at least three generations. Her father had left when she was young, leaving the girl's mother to take care of her daughter all alone. The mother had grown up loving the movie The Sleeping Beauty, and admired the way the three fairies grouped together to take care of the princess, to keep her safe from the evil in the world. It helped her a lot to raise the daughter, admiring the three women. It takes a village to raise a baby. She also loved The Princess and the Frog, the way Tiana's mother was raising a child on her own, using her seamstress knowledge to sell dresses and fix clothing for others. She had been raising her daughter on food stamps and government money, until she too decided she needed to get up, stop moping, and raise her damn daughter. She began stitching clothes, hemming them for other people. Buying cloth and recycling clothing from thrift stores to resell. Everything in the little girls closet was always purchased from thrift stores or made just for her.
She hadn't had it easy growing up. While other poor kids had Walmart brand clothing, or even target if they were lucky, everything she owned had no label, was ripped here or there only to be sewn back together. She hadn't been bullied because of it, tons of the people in the town had clothes sewn by her mother, a lot of people actually thought it was kind of cool, having an entire closet of clothes made just for you. Kind of like a model, or a princess would have wardrobe made just to fit them.
Even with the money that her mother made, it still sometimes wasn't enough. Sometimes the mother would give random sales and cuts to her prices to make it more affordable for others. Sure, maybe they hadn't been able to eat dinner that night, but at least the mother could sleep easily knowing she made life easier for other people. And that's the way the girl grew up to be. Putting others before herself.
These past six weeks have passed by in a blur honestly, all I do is sit by the telephone waiting on him to call, but every day for six weeks it takes longer for the phone to ring. At first, we agreed 6 PM. Then it changed to 6:30. Then 6:45, and so on and so on until it's now 9 PM. I'm meant to be asleep now. But I can't sleep when we don't talk. I'm curled up on the chair in my living room, it's a soft rocking chair my dad sits in when he watches the television. I don't have my own phone yet, so when Michael calls it's the phone in the living room. I'm wrapped in a soft blanket, one that Michael and I often used during our movie nights.
Just before he left, we kind of had a moment I think. I didn't want to beg him to stay, but I couldn't bare the thought of him leaving so we just didn't discuss that topic. I was so proud of him, and I knew deep in my heart that if these boys put the effort in, they'd be so great as a band. I really can picture of a future with 5 Seconds of Summer playing stadiums, on the radio, merchandising, hell, even like One Direction with their singing toothbrushes.
And I'm glad he's got something he's so passionate about. Michael hated school, and I did too but I liked to think having each other always made it more bearable. But with him being gone, school is like hell. I'm bored and lonely sitting at our lunch table, and I definitely have a few girl friends, but I liked Michael. He liked me too, but with his band leaving to work on their career, it just wasn't in the time line. He promised soon. Soon we'd talk, figure everything out. Every call I half expected him to bring it up, to talk to me about us, but so far he hasn't said a single word. It kinda kills me to think he probably hasn't put much thought into it like I have.
I'm half asleep when the phone rings, I practically jump up from the chair and reach over, grabbing the phone. Thankfully, my parents were able to afford going chord less. I make my way to my bedroom, just around the corner, and I shut the door, flopping down onto my bed. "Hey." he says as soon as I bring the phone to my ear. "Hi." I grinned back, twirling my hair between my fingers nervously. We talk about anything and everything, except what I most want to hear him say. We talk about how much I hate algebra, but I'm ready to graduate in a year. We talk about how Sara McKinley from our old History class got pregnant and has morning sickness during second period and ran out of class. We talked about Jared and Jenna and how they were supposed to be the most popular 'it' couple, but he hasn't asked her to winter ball yet. The most important dance of school. The one that gets posted in the newspaper, promoting the school. It's meant to be a charity event, something different every year.
The longer we talk the more tired I get. The more tired I get, the more I can't stop running my mouth about how much I miss him like a drunken idiot. "I just miss my history partner. Classes are boring and I always look like an idiot walking to class alone." I sighed, letting my eyes fall shut for a moment. "I just feel like everything is changing, and I know that's life, but I wasn't expecting us to leave each other so soon. Maybe after graduation, but not now." I yawned. Michael stays silent like he always does when I say that I miss him. We hang up not to long after that, which kills me. Not only do our calls get later, but they get shorter. He used to be so full of life, and now I just think he's tired. He must be with all the work he's been putting in. Learning guitar chords and tricks, writing music. I bet being locked in a house with three other boys might not always be the best, but then again they're best friends so I guess he can't complain too much.
For Christmas time, I got my first ever phone. It was a cute Nokia phone, it slid downward and had two keyboards! Two keyboards! The one hidden under the phone, the sliding part, even glowed in the dark. Coolest invention ever. Although it was not a brand new iPhone, it was what we could afford. Eventually, I had plans on working and making my own money so I could buy a phone, but I was thankful for it anyway. No one else at school had anything like it. For good reason honestly, my phone was outdated, but it gave me character that everyone else lacked. Our family didn't even own a regular computer, still a huge box that heated up way too quickly. It was my father's too and we weren't really allowed to touch it unless we were doing school work or were practicing our typing.
Now, I could talk to Michael more. We could text. I still remember the first time I texted him. It wasn't anything special, just a 'hey, you up ;)' at midnight. We talked for a while when he called me back soon after I sent the message. "I haven't seen your face in ages." Michael mumbled sleepily. It was a weekend, thankfully, so I could talk as long as I wanted. Michael didn't have to do anything at all tomorrow for once, which was great. "I can send pictures to you now I think." my phone had images on it, so I think I can email him or something. "Could you?" Michael asked, a hint of a smile in his voice. It's true, we hadn't seen each other in ages.
Sometimes I fear something isn't going to click between us. "Of course I can. I haven't taken any pictures of me on here yet, but I promise when I do, I'll send them your way." I chuckled, running my fingers up and down my blanket comforter. "I just expect pictures of you too." I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling above me. "I can do that." he promised, chuckling the entire time lowly. "I'll let you go cause you're tired." I sighed, but I felt too awake. Excited from being able to talk to Michael for more than an hour a night, being able to text him, having my own phone too was something to celebrate. "No, we can talk." Michael replied slowly. "No seriously," I fought. "We can talk all day tomorrow." I suggested and Michael hummed. "Okay, I'll call you in the morning."
We both said goodnight and I hung up, knowing he'd be too sleepy to even move. I plug my phone into its charger, and I fall asleep, excitement buzzing through me making it hard, but I was more exhausted than I thought.
We don't talk the next day. My mother wanted to do some shopping with her work Christmas bonus. We went out to dinner as a family, and that's exactly how it felt, like we were a family. The next day after that we went to see my grandmother, exchanging gifts with my dads side of the family. I wasn't allowed to be texting or calling anyone when I was with family. The day after that, we did some grocery shopping, and I had left my phone at home the entire day. I wasn't used to bringing it around with me everywhere. Then the day after, Michael was busy in the studio the entire day, so we didn't talk much then either. It felt like we were drifting. We hadn't spoken to each other, almost the entire Christmas break. But after Christmas, I really needed to keep my focus on school. My parents had been very forgiving of my grades, but now they had a leverage over me (my phone, and Michael), so I had to be on my A game for the rest of the year.
He hadn't sent me any pictures of him. In Christmas, in January, and now February, I think I'm forgetting him, which makes me sick. Sometimes, I see someone who minorly resembles him and he's all I can think about for the rest of the day. But then I forget the simple thing's. Like the exact color of his hair, the way his voice had changed so much since we were kids. I even had to think about his eye color once. I couldn't picture the shade of green they were anymore. They weren't seaweed green, they were not that dark. But they weren't pale green like the inside of limes. They were darker than that, like the color of trees. I decided that as the truth and became excited for the spring. All the leaves would come back and I'd be living in a world of Michaels eye's. I wonder if he's as obsessed with me as I am with him. But I doubted it, we hadn't spoken much in the two and half months since Christmas break ended.
Sometimes we'd talk super late into the night, like two or three in the morning, when he wasn't as busy and his day had already started while mine was supposed to be ended, and I was supposed to be deep asleep. When we'd text, sometimes we wouldn't get answers from each other in hours. I still had school, and we weren't allowed to be on our phones during school hours. Every day, the little we talked became less.
I feel like I was running out of time, as soon as May hit. I had the summer left before it was my last year as a student. Michael had been gone for six months. What had been six weeks, now was six months. It's strange how much time had passed since then. How much I had changed, I wonder how much he had changed. Even through it all, I still liked him. Absence makes the heart grow fonder I suppose. I think I loved him in all honesty. I hadn't ever felt anything like this before. Something so strong. There were cute classmates I had, but nothing could ever compared to what Michael and I have. Or had, now that we don't talk.
May 8th. He called me randomly, earlier than he ever had before. "Guess what!" Michael exclaimed into the phone as soon as I picked up. Half of me, wasn't going to. The end of the year tests were beginning and I had hardly studied since May began, I needed to focus. But we hadn't spoken at all in four days. I clicked the answer button, and held it up, nodding along to everything he was saying. "Our second album is coming out!" he exclaimed excitedly. I had barely got the chance to hear about the first one. "Oh really?" I asked, half listening. I stared down at my textbooks. I wonder if I just set my phone down for a few minutes, if he'd keep yammering on. Would he even notice I'm not listening to him? It breaks my heart a bit, but I can't help it. "It comes out on the 26th in June. We're still working on the title, but it's gonna be a record of probably a couple songs, all covers!"
"Uh huh." I tap my pencils eraser against my notebook. I'm out of passion for this conversation already, and it's only just begun. He talks more about the songs, the covers, how they have one last song to record and then they're going to compile the ones they like the most to put into an album. I hardly notice the silence that drifts between us, and without his voice in my head I read my book. History as per usual. The class I used to be the best at, and now I'm almost flunking out. If I get anything lower than a B on this final, I'll have to take this class again or during summer school and I don't have any time for that. "I miss you."
"Yeah, that's nice Michael, look, I'm kinda busy studying right now and I'm sure you have a ton of work that needs to get done, I'll call you back okay?" I rambled out, hanging up without a second thought. I scan through the text book for a few minutes, my brain not catching the words. I was so distracted. Wait. Did he say he missed me? I swallow thickly and stare down at my phone in my lap. He said he missed me and all I said back was 'that's nice Michael.' I think I'm gonna be sick. There's nothing I can do about it now. I literally told him, nicely I suppose, but still, I told him to go away. Go find something else to do. And as bad as I feel, I also feel kind of good.
All the nights he pushed back our calls, hanging up earlier than the day before. Ignoring my texts for weeks in a row. Sure, everything has changed, but sometimes change is good. I have important things to focus on, as I'm sure he does as well. I don't want to feel like this, but I can't help it. I have changed. I miss him like hell, but I've adjusted to life without him. Every day gets better for me. I cry less, I don't stay awake when we don't talk. Although he used to help me with history, that's the only reason I'm falling behind. But everything else, I've adjusted, I've grown. I'm sure him saying he misses me was just something to say, something to get my attention. I tried everything to get his attention. Sending pictures of myself hanging out with friends, I wanted him to ask what I'm doing or who I'm with. Silence. I have to find new information about him through my friends showing me YouTube videos. We don't talk anymore, and that is totally normal. I wish it hadn't ended this way, but it has. He's like a stranger to me now. I can't remember his favorite color, or his favorite movie. It's probably changed by now. He feels so far apart, and I did all I could to keep him close to my heart, but he wasn't putting the effort in. Maybe he's trying now, but it's a little too late for all that. I had to move on. Worrying about him, thinking about him, us, wasn't healthy.
You know, every time you fall in love, you go through the realization. I didn't have to go through with it alone, because we fell in love together. Our love blossomed quietly, hidden behind the shadows of how we portrayed ourselves to each other, but when I looked in his eyes I knew. When he looked in mine, he knew too. We were in love.
Our relationship had changed, it went from something peaceful to something loud, wild, and free. But it wasn't bad at all. It was a beautiful change, a way that could only happen between two best friends in love.
We had our good days, some of the best days of my life. There were the ones that were quiet, days in where neither of us could face the hardships of the world and we'd lie in bed with a pizza and the TV on and pretend it was just us in this world. Playing with Duke in the yard while he smoked and I sipped wine. Or we'd have the loud good days, hanging out backstage at concerts and singing the wrong lyrics to songs but never being embarrassed because that's just what we did. Driving around with the windows down as music echoed around the streets.
But we'd also have the loud bad days. The screaming at each other, throwing thing's out of pure anger. To follow, it was usually the quiet bad days. Sleeping in separate rooms, ignoring each other because that's all we we knew how to do. I couldn't even blame it on being kids, we weren't kids anymore. We were barely lovers, barely even friends.
And normally when people break up with their exes, you can block them. Ignore their calls, texts. You don't have to see their friends anymore, or look in their eyes but with Calum it was another thing that made him stand out compared to everyone else, I saw him everywhere. I drive past his house sometimes, just to see if his cars in the driveway. I know I could just man up and knock on the door and he'd let me in, he wouldn't stop calling my phone but I wasn't sure if answering was the right decision.
The last night we spent together, all we did was argue and with every insult, we knew it was going to be the last time. Neither of us were mature enough to talk. He was mean. I'll never understand when boys are mean. Girls can be mean too, but hearing a boy be mean, they just know it hurts and they do anything they can think of to push their pain onto someone else to momentarily forget why they're angry in the first place.
I had sat at the couch, hands folded in my lap, and Duke hiding out. He never liked when we fought, but I'm sure he'll enjoy it when I've gone. No more fighting. "I can't do this anymore." Calum was pacing behind me, hard wood cracking under the pressure of his steps with the weight of what was to become our relationship resting on his shoulders. He scoffed. "You can't." it felt like a threat. I wasn't afraid you'd hit me, I knew you weren't that kind of guy. But the things you said felt as bad, if not worse. "You can't leave me." it was my turn to scoff. I had mentally checked out long ago, and I was just ghosting through the rest of our relationship while I tried to find the easiest way to break it off.
Quick paced steps and you sit beside me. "I'm being serious, where you gonna go?" I break my train of thought, blinking a few times, trying to find myself again. I worried I had let myself go through the past few weeks on autopilot and I had really left myself, not just you. I was finding my own consciousness again. "I'm gonna stay with a friend, we just... Need a while." I stated slowly, hoping for once he wouldn't try and talk over me, tell me no. "We don't need anything, what you need is to stay here with me."
"Whatever is going on with us Calum, isn't gonna be fixed by me being in this house anymore. We just... Aren't on the same path anymore and our time has run out or something." I explained. Maybe if I gave it an explanation, it'd make this break much cleaner. If you can give a problem an answer, there won't be a problem anymore. "You can't make a wrong relationship turn right. It doesn't work that way." I trailed off.
We sit beside each other in silence. It echoes louder than the words. "Fine then, if you wanna go just fucking go. Can't stand this anymore anyway."
Another blow, worse than an actual punch. I guess I was expecting you to beg some more, maybe plead for a second chance but the giving up? I hadn't thought you were that kind of man either. I just stood up silently, grabbing my phone and dialing up my friend to come pick me up as soon as possible. I headed into our bedroom, chewing on my bottom lip to give me something to do aside from crying. My eyes were burning and I kept tilting my head up to keep the tears from sliding down my cheeks. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of letting him see me cry. I packed my bag up with essentials. All the clothes that didn't have a story with you in it, thing's I bought myself. Everything that reminded me of you, I left behind. Another problem to deal with another day.
I turned in the bedroom, about to head into the bathroom. I find you standing there in the doorway, just silently watching me pack. You always had the saddest puppy dog eyes I had ever seen. "So that's it then? You're just gonna leave me without a fight?" Calum argued. I sighed, pushing open the bathroom door and shoving more of my thing's into a bag. It was my turn to watch you in the bathroom mirror as you stand behind me.
It reminded me of all the good times like this. In the morning, how I'd brush my teeth or do my hair or makeup and you'd just watch, enamored. It crushed me. All the times I helped you cut your hair, when I watched you shave your beard. I flipped around, leaning against the bathroom counter and dropped my bag, arms crossing over my chest. "I think we've done enough fighting." I nodded along, accentuating my point. Calum couldn't think of anything else to say to disprove me, so I picked my bag up and looked him in the eye, but he couldn't hold it for longer than a second. His whole frame took up the doorway. We used to talk about our future children and whose features they'd come to have. His height, his hair, his eyes, my heart, my smile. He told me he'd die of frustration if they took on my stubbornness. My attitude too. It just made me laugh at the time. But now that kind of thing seemed impossible to think of.
Who's smile and laugh, hair and eyes were my future kids going to have now?
"You have to let me leave Calum." I said loudly. He shakes his eyes, eyebrows set in a deep furrow. He's grown so much since we started dating. I have too. We just didn't grow together, we grew apart and that's normal. My phone buzzes from where I had set it down on the counter, lighting up with a text from my friend that she arrived and was waiting for me outside. I pocketed my phone and push off the counter, walking up to him. "You gotta let me go now. I'm being serious." I repeated his line from earlier and Calum slips to the slide to let me pass easily.
No one ever talks about how eerie it is to leave a relationship. Walking through the rest of the house, phantoms of our memories playing in my head, dancing all around me in broken fragments. I don't think there's anything wrong with me, or him. We were both stressed about work, the lack thereof on his end. Moving in was a huge step, and a huge mistake. But even with all that being said, it wasn't a waste of time. We both learned a lot about each other in our short time together. I learned how I wanted to be loved, and my perfect idea of love wasn't like this at all. Today ended up being one of our loud bad days, ending with complete silence as I walked through the front door. Maybe some day we'd find each other again, but at this time, I just don't think I'm ready.
Even when I drive past his house, even when I wear the clothes he always liked most on me, even when I listen to the playlists we made together or ate our favorite foods in complete silence. I doubt there's ever going to be a day where I don't love him though. I wish I could forget, and I try to put more effort into it every day we spend apart, but I can't. I love him and it sucks.
I remember her so clearly. I had been a junior when she was a senior, but I noticed her long before then. It probably was because her hair was always dyed elaborate colors. Red, pink, purple, blue. Sometimes more than one and they never seemed to fade, she was so colorful and bright in such a dreary place like school. I wanted her to notice me the same way I noticed her. I started to dress nicer, well attempted to at least. I had no idea what would make me seem more interesting. She doesn't even get dressed in the morning's much. She doesn't wear jeans or skirts or dresses like all the other girls. She wears sweat pants and hoodies, the hood up covering her hair to conceal herself. The one time we did meet, we bumped into each other at the store and I stood there like an idiot. She just smiled at me and apologized. I think I was in shock that she was just talking to me in general. She also asked me if we went to the same school and I said, "Oh yeah I was a senior a few year's ago. I'm twenty." I spit out. Which was an obvious lie, if she ever sees me at that school, then I'm done for. She's gonna know I lied. I'm sure she's seen me around school recently, but she just nods. Her hair was chopped, just above her shoulders now, completely different from what she had ever done before. It was mesmerizing.
I wish I had been less of an idiot, didn't let her walk away from me but there was nothing I could do. I didn't have a job, and my mum's got no money to help me take her out either. I'm the worst fake twenty year old ever. Sometimes I wish that I could just change. Be exactly who she needs me to be.
And then after that whole store moment, I went home and did nothing. Thinking about her. It's so obvious that she's out of reach for a guy like me. It's really hard to even come to terms with that cause she makes me feel like I'm trying too hard. I mean really? Aging myself up four years? She probably saw right through me. Dressing up? That's not me. I've never cared so much about what I wear, or do, or say, in front of a girl before. Even when I liked girls when I was younger. I never cared and I have no idea why this girl is making me want to try so hard.
The next day at school was different. I hid in the library during my lunch period, which of course we had together. It's how I saw her for the first time. She came in alone, returning a book. Her shirt had slid up as she leaned against the counter engaging in conversation with the library. I hardly ever see her talk to anyone. I noticed it really quickly, a tattoo. The more I stared, the more I pondered over what it could be. The lines weren't dark or rough, but dainty and smooth against her skin, finished to perfection. I don't know why I never thought she'd have tattoos. She has a few piercings.
I think it's a rose?
I can just barely make out thorns and vines. It's pretty, I decided it was. If it was on her, it couldn't be anything less than perfect. Leaning over to get a closer look, I narrow my eyes drinking in the details. My chair slowly slides closer to the floor before I lose my balance. I crash to the floor in a heap and a loud laugh comes from behind me. I turn and glare at whoever laughed at me. Oh, Michael Clifford of course. He's sitting with all his little loser friends. "You know she's into drummers, not guitarists mate." he laughed, standing up and walking over to me. He held his hand out to me but I just glared at him. "I don't need your help." I huffed, standing up on my own. He shrugs and picks the chair up. "Speaking of guitarists and drummers, I heard you've been posting youtube videos playing the guitar." he says. I felt like he was gonna annoy the shit out of me about it, probably bully me. "I don't." I turned, watching as y/n begins to leave but Michael laughs and sits down in my chair. "Yeah right, I've got this idea..." he trails off but I'm hardly listening to him, I've got bigger thing's on my mind.
She's not into guitarists?
Within the next few days, we see each other a lot more out of school. Y/n and I, not Michael he's weird. He keeps stealing Calum from me, and Calum thinks he's cooler than me which is not true. I asked my mum and she said no one's cooler than I am. Every time we bump into each other, twice now, I keep getting these nervous jitters. My mum sent me to the library when she was doing some extra work at home and didn't want to listen to me play the guitar anymore. I was kind of starting a band with Michael, but were trying to rope Calum in it with us, but he's too busy with football. No one cares about football mate, it's all about the music!
I wondered a lot if I should just give up guitar and buy a drum kit. Maybe she'd like me more? But then we bumped into each other at the library, two days in a row, and never once did she remember my name, or that she had even seen me before. I knew then, that something must have been wrong with me. I ripped my jeans. She didn't care. I started following her around a bit more, seeing what kinds of thing's she was into. She went to the movie theater a lot and I found out she spent a lot of time at a flower shop and the cafe across the street. I think this is called stalking, but it's all for good reason.
I followed her around for about six weeks. Michael and I practiced every single day to get better at guitar, when mum wasn't home or wasn't working of course or else she'd kick us out and I'd make him help me follow her around. She definitely thinks I'm a weirdo now. We roped Calum into our band at some point. And then Michael heard about this cool older guy named Ashton Irwin. He's a super cool, and well known drummer around here. I wondered if he had ever met Y/n. Maybe with him in our band she'd come to our show and she'd forget about drummers for once. It made me so insanely jealous. I kinda wished he'd teach me to play the drums so we could kick him out of the band and I could do it.
Our show went great though. Calum proposed to Ashton back stage, asking him to officially be in the band and Ashton agreed, however I don't really remember Michael and I agreeing to Calum being in the band. But we needed them both a lot if we were gonna make it big.
Then at school, with all the hustle and bustle, and people talking about our show and how they were sorry they hadn't been able to come. I guess some of these kids weren't allowed to come into bars. Like whatever, my mum would've talked to the managers. Through it all, during lunch, which I now mainly sat with Michael and Calum, Mike told me that Y/n had been talking to the librarian about dropping out. So I did too.
I pierced my lip, which hurt really badly. She's got tattoos and piercings all over, from what Michael has told me so I'm sure she'd think I was older, cooler. My mum was angry, but she wasn't as angry as the day I dropped out of school. I told her I was going to focus on music, but she was so angry with me that she made me be homeschooled. Mission accomplished I guess? But it gave me more time to learn about Y/n.
And then, while sitting at home again, I realized I was being an idiot again. I dropped out of school for a girl? For a girl to notice me? I've ruined my whole future for a girl? At least my mum was forcing me to be homeschooled, but I'm not even being me still. I was just trying so hard for her to notice me, but she doesn't even care at all.
The longer Mike, Cal, Ashton and I practiced, the better we got. We practiced every day for hours on end until either of our parents decided that it was enough and we'd go home. It payed off though.
I hadn't forgotten about her, not once even when I got swept up into everything. We got scouted out by One Direction, the biggest boy band ever. Teenage girls were going crazy for them everywhere. But Y/n was not just some average teenager, she was mature, mysterious, serious. I almost didn't take the offer, we just didn't think our bands goals aligned with the One Direction groups. But we took the offer, eventually realizing that something as cool and as big as this might not come again.
We moved out to London, working on music every single day. I always thought about what she was doing. Was she working at the flower shop still? Did she ever go to the cafe? Did she realize I wasn't around anymore or was she thankful I stopped following her?
But now, standing on the stage, I see her. She's surrounded by a bunch of teenage girls, all dressed up in One Direction merch and she's wearing my bands merch! Mine! She's in the crowd of my show, in the front row. Her hair, ruby red, shining in the flashing lights of the set while we play. Sometimes I feel nervous playing, and I always thought about her coming to watch my shows, and I would have been so nervous a few years a go, but now, now I'm excited and I know I'll play my best tonight because I have too. She's the perfect view to play to, to sing to. I needed her to know that, and I will. I was just surprised she had come all the way out here to watch me. Unless she's here for Ashton, but I'll pretend she's here for me.
There comes a part of the song where Calum and Michael take over, so I hop off of the stage, swinging my guitar behind me. Girls start screaming, and I know I look like the coolest guy in the world. A guard follows over to me but I tell him not to. "You look pretty." I complimented. There were cameras all over me, taking pictures and videos, and I was sure some news article was going to eat me alive in a few days, but I don't care. "Thank you. I like your band." she complimented back. This is the longest conversation we've ever had with each other. "Yeah, we're pretty cool." my time was almost up so I had to end this quickly, even though all I wanted was to talk to her. "Listen, stay here after the concerts over with if you can. I wanna talk to you. I'll come find you." she nods silently, and I turn around, hoisting my guitar onto the stage, I pull myself up quickly, standing up and going to the microphone where I took over again. I can't believe I did that. I glance at Michael who's walking over to me and shaking his head, teasing me, but I don't care.
Sometimes being a try hard really pays off in the end.
